Blazing Flames
by The Scarletclad Mage
Summary: Katniss has failed in her task to save Peeta, who has fallen into the hands of the Capitol. District 12 is no more. Katniss refuses to be a piece in anyone's Games. What happens next? Post-CF
1. Scarring

BLAZING FLAMES

Chapter One: Scarring

By: The Scarletclad Mage

"_Katniss, there is no District 12."_

The words hit me like a ton of bricks in the face. I want to sit up in this hospital bed to get a better look at Gale, or maybe to run far away to escape the truth but I'm shackled to the bed. The drugs constantly leaking in my arm combined with my loss of will to live leave me too weak to move. It's all I can do to grip his hand.

"What happened?" I whisper in horror. "Tell me what happened before…" I couldn't bring myself to say the words. "How did you get hurt?"

"The day after the Reaping, some of us met in secret. Everyone was obviously upset, even though we all knew you and Peeta were going back to the arena. In the mines, I'd hear whispered calls for change. That night, I told our group what you told me, about the rebellions happening in different districts. I asked them if other districts could do it, why not us? I told them that we could rebel too if we all stood together. We agreed to spread the word and meet again the next week. There were eight of us that night.

"It didn't take long for our number to grow. We were assembling our plan by your first day in the arena. We were careful and secretive. We recognized members of our group by passing crackers with a mockingjay, like the rebels from District 8. Peeta's father baked them for us," He glanced at me, trying to gauge my expression. But all I could do was stare.

"Who was involved?"

"In the end, we had practically everybody. Everyone from the Seam and many of the merchants. We waited for the right moment to strike. The day before you escaped the Games, we took our shot. We attacked the Peacekeepers, stole their weapons. Thread took out a lot of our number but it was too late to stop us. There was panic and screaming in the streets. I killed him myself," Gale's voice dropped to an icy steel. "We fought like animals. He broke my arm but I slit his throat. I knew it would be me from the beginning. The riots and killing went on for almost two days. That's when we saw the planes."

As he said the words, his stormy eyes looked distant and I knew he wasn't really talking to me anymore. He wasn't even in the room. He was back in District 12 re-living everything once more. It was an expression I knew all too well. Wasn't it the same one my face mirrored constantly after the Games? It was all too much to take in.

"I was lucky, I saw them. I had time to react. I threw myself into the cellar of the nearest house…yours." I gasped but he didn't react. "My family was there waiting for me with your mother and Prim. We ran down into the cellar and listened to the screams of despair above us. I knew we had to run and get out of District 12. We would try to go to District 13 like the others. That has always been our last resort. Your mother bandaged my arm. We waited for the last bombs to fall and climbed out the cellar. I'll never forget it for as long as I live. It was completely destroyed, buildings toppled, fires raging, bodies charred everywhere. There were no signs of survivors. I knew we would have to move quickly because they would send in Peacekeepers to ensure that there were no survivors. We ran to the fence. The bombings had cut off the power to it so we could slip underneath. We could hear the shooting now. We were all on the other side except my mother and Rory. The Peacekeepers had found us. They shot at us and they hit Rory in the back of the head. My mother screamed and ran to him. She took two bullets in the chest. The Peacekeepers were getting closer. I tried to crawl back over to save them but she wouldn't let me. She told me to run and to take care of Vick and Posy for her," Gales voice had turned almost inaudible. Tears were streaming down my face.

"She told me she was proud of me," he whispered. "She told me that my father would have been proud of me too. Then she told me to run. I had to leave her there. I had to leave her lying in the dirt with my brother. We ran for a long time. I carried Posy on my back. We escaped into the woods. We wandered for what seemed like days until a hovercraft appeared. We couldn't escape it. I knew that the Capitol had caught up with us at last. We were all shocked when we saw it was Haymitch standing on the deck of the hovercraft. We told him about District 12. He already knew most of it. He told us the entire district had been bombed until there was nothing left. He told us what happened in the Games. We came to see you immediately, but you were catatonic. This is the first time any of us has been able to talk to a cohesive you."

I struggled and managed to pull my body into a sitting position. I pulled Gale into me and buried my face in his shoulder. He smelled like oranges and pine. He held me tightly and we just stayed there for a while, neither of us saying a word. What was there to say? After a while, he pulled me back to look at my face. "I'm glad you're here, Katniss," he murmured and kissed me. It felt nice, it felt right, but kissing Gale reminded me too much of kissing Peeta.

"Peeta!" I blurt out, breaking the kiss. "Gale, we have to save Peeta! The Capitol has him. We have to save him!" Gale's body stiffens underneath my hands.

"I kiss you and the first thing out of your mouth is _his_ name, Katniss?" he says slowly.

"Gale, I-" But the door to the room flies open and saves me from having to face Gale. Blissfully unaware of the tension between Gale and me, Prim gives an excited squeal and runs over to see me. Gale steps back and she crashes into my arms. I clasp her tightly to me. After the jabberjay incident, it's so relieving that she is truly all right that I want to cry.

"She's been waiting for you to wake up for a while," Gale says. He's wearing this fake smile so Prim doesn't catch on that we were about to get into a fight. At that moment, my mother walks in the door and joins Prim in hugging me. She and Prim are crying and I struggle not to join them. Gale is still staring at me over their shoulders, his fake smile no longer plastered on his face and his dark eyes full of hurt. "I've going to go check on Vick and Posy," he says lightly. "I'll see you around."

With that, he turns and walks out of the room. Ouch. Prim and my mother chatter away to me about everything and nothing. Both of them carefully avoided talking about the horrors witnessed in District 12. I let their words wash over me. It was soothing and more healing than the gallons of Capitol medicines that were coursing through my veins. I surprise them both by asking for food. As my mother goes to find some, I take a better look at my sister. She looks so much older than her thirteen years. Her body is so terribly thin and the angles are sharp in her face. But what was the most heartbreaking were her eyes. The brilliant sky blue I'd remembered had deepened, darkened with pain and suffering. The desperation of the times had stolen the innocence from her. No child should have to deal with the things she has. She doesn't notice my scrutiny though. She continues talking but my strength is waning. I end up falling asleep to the familiar cadence of her voice. When I wake up, she is gone and a cup of broth is sitting on the table next to me.

With the two of them left, I am alone with my thoughts. My demons. No more District 12. No more Seam. No more of the little house that I grew up in. Nothing left of my father's lake. The woods are dead. My life is gone, a heap of coal refuge in the middle of a valley of death. The thought horrifies me to the point of nausea. Is it my fault, what happen in our home? Am I the one who's to blame for deaths of countless innocent people? People that I grew up with? Would things be different if I hadn't told Gale about the uprisings in other districts? Gale…I can't believe what he did in District 12. He did it exactly like he said he would, that day in the woods. I'm so lost on what I need to do to fix Gale and me. I thought he would understand that I can't afford to fall in love with anyone. I thought he knew that I do have feelings for him, but I can't figure out what they mean. Maybe he never knew after all. I don't know what to think. His kiss shouldn't have taken me by surprise but of course it did. Just like his last kiss, incidentally. I should be happy I guess. I chose Gale. Being with Peeta is what the Capitol wants. My relationship with Peeta is a show, a joke. But my friendship with him is not. I was supposed to save him this time. Of course I'm going to be upset that my friend is being tortured by the Capitol. Haymitch and I agreed that it was going to be him that survives this one. He deserves to live more than I do. Why couldn't Gale see that? Why couldn't Gale understand that I _owe _him and I will never stop owing him? I failed and Peeta is going to be killed for my foolish actions. I hate myself. I hate Haymitch. Traitor. I'm a fool for ever trusting him. A sudden longing for Peeta to be holding me in this bed struck me hard. Peeta could keep away the nightmares that plagued my sleep. He never wanted anything from me except my love. The boy with the bread. He is probably bleeding in a prison somewhere, lashed for information that he doesn't have. How could I let this happen?

And then, the tears that I had been so careful to hold back, burst out of me. I wept for Peeta, alone and at the mercy of President Snow. I wept for home. I wept for Madge who was surely dead by now. I wept for Hazelle and Rory. I wept for Prim and her lost childhood. I wept for Gale and his love for me.

I wept for myself for having to live through the horror that was this life. What was it that Finnick had said? _"I wish she was dead. I wish they were all dead and we were too. That would be best."_ It was too true.

I let myself have this one night to mourn. After this, I have to be strong for my family. I have to find a way to save Peeta. I have to talk to Haymitch. But tonight….tonight is my night. Through the tears, I drift into unconsciousness.

And let the nightmares come.


	2. Jarring

BLAZING FLAMES

Chapter Two: JARRING

By: The Scarletclad Mage

It took me another day and a half to recover enough to stand up out of the hospital bed. Prim and my mother hardly left my side, nagging me to eat more and chattering away constantly. Something was off however. Their smiles were a little too bright, their voices a little too high. It didn't match the haunted look that was still etched into their matching cerulean eyes. I knew they were putting on a show for me. I knew they wanted to distract me from thinking about Peeta or home. I knew they were trying to hide their own pain to avoid causing me more. I appreciated it, even if it didn't work. To their credit, it hurt much less when they were around. There were moments when I even forgot how horrible things were. Also, with my family surrounding me, Gale had not tried to finish our earlier conversation. Another thing to be grateful for.

"I've had enough soup already," I push the mostly empty bowl of broth away from me with a sigh. Mother looks doubtful. "I've probably gone through all the soup on this hovercraft by now anyway."

"There's a lot of food here anyway. There has to be, to feed all the people," Prim took my bowl from me and set it on the table. I sat up more attentively.

"Who else is here?" No one had ever mentioned to me that anyone else was on the hovercraft. How big could this thing be, anyway?

"Lots of people," Mother says slowly. "We've been flying around the country rescuing people that are loyal to the cause."

_To the cause? _"Since when have you been political?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them, but I am too surprised to care. My mother, the healer, who had never dared to say anything controversial about the Capitol, is going on about _the cause? _It is too bizarre.

She looks at me and I am suddenly struck how old she looked. My mother looks like she has aged ten years since I left for the arena the second time. "Since they drew one of my daughter's names and my other daughter went in her place," she replies in a low voice I've never heard before. "Since I watched them torture my child in mind and body on live television. Since they burned our home to the ground." I stare at her. The woman looking back at me is not the woman that left us to fend for ourselves after my father died. This defiance that is written all over her face must be the same fire she had in her when she ran off with my father so many years ago. In this moment, I am ashamed of myself. I am done with being an invalid. I don't want to stay in this bed a second longer.

"I want to see them," I say quietly, sitting up more and pushing the blankets aside. "Show me." I stagger to my feet and stumble a little. Prim reaches out and steadies me. With Prim helping to support me, we walk through the door.

I've never actually seen how large this hovercraft is. It feels like we pass miles of the gleaming metallic walls. It reminds me of the Capitol's hovercraft that transported us to and from the arena; only the Capitol hovercraft is built for comfort. This one is colder, sleeker, and seems to be welded from a single piece of steel. To someone who prefers the woods of all places like me, the sterility was unnerving. Unfazed at all, Prim moved through the unnaturally white light without comment. Maybe she had gotten used to it already, but I know it doesn't matter how long I am here, I would never get used to it. The cold of the floor seeps into my bare feet and I shiver. After navigating through the hovercraft for a while, Prim stops at a handrail and motions for me to look down at the first level.

Row after row of refugees huddle, tattered and dirty. It is clear that everyone here escaped with merely the clothes on their backs and nightmares. My eyes slide from one to another, scanning for familiar faces but not recognizing any. Although the number of people crammed in here is staggering, the petrifying realization was that the entire remaining population of District 12 could fit in this hovercraft.

Prim glances over at me. "They said that we are almost there."

I look out the window nearby and see that the terrain in this area is very different from District 12, different actually from any of the districts I had visited on tour. The red sandy ground is very flat and dotted with scruffy little plants. There are mountains and sparse rock formations that seem almost to be painted by a larger than life hand with great bands of colors. Even the dirt is colored, tinted red, and the variations of the reds and oranges of the land contrast captivatingly with the blue unending sky. It was beautiful in a very alien way. Yet, I could not see a way of living in this quiet place. Where would the game hide in a land barren of vegetation? I couldn't see any source of water in any direction. How could we grow what was needed without a source of water? How could anyone survive in a land where there is no water or nourishment to be found off the land?

We approach the biggest mountain of any of the ones we've seen and start to descend. To my amazement, the mountain splits open to create a gaping hole of darkness within. The hovercraft slips inside and begins to fly down vertically at a heart pounding speed in utter darkness. I feel sick and want to sit down but I don't, the curiosity and disbelief at the prospect of witnessing the survival of District 13 firsthand nailing me to my place at the window. We go down and down, until it is readily apparent that we were now traveling not within the mountain itself but in a deep catacomb underneath the earth. After a while, I begin to see the darkness lightening into a soft reddish glow. Craning my neck, the glow begins to solidify and I begin to see District 13. It is the strangest city I've ever seen. Buildings of all different sizes and shapes are crammed together on the floor of a gigantic cavern. They are not made of stone or any metal that I recognize. They are arrayed from bright steel to an ominous orange metal and despite the fact that the city is completely metallic, the city seems fused with the earth like an extension of the same design. I see as we approach closer that the buildings have the same bands of color that the rock formations at the surface level. The intensity and prevalence of the foreign orange metal caused the lights of the city to bounce off an eerie crimson glow.

"Copper," Plutarch had come up behind me so quietly that I jump at his words. "The city is made of a metal called copper. It's one of the natural resources of District 13 as well as uranium. The people of District 13 built this city a long time ago. They knew that there was always a chance that the Capitol would turn its technologies on them. Precautions were made. Look closer and you will see the staircases."

I squint my eyes and I see a multitude of half-crumbling rock staircases weaving steeply and dizzyingly from all directions into the city.

"They knew it was coming. There are entrances hidden all over the surface, marked with a sign that only those who belong here will recognize. Tell me, do you remember seeing anything at the surface level?"

"There wasn't anything except this mountain and some rocks."

"Precisely. The Capitol bombed it until there was no traces left of humanity here. They bombed everything until all that was left was dust. The people fled here as the city above was completely demolished. Of course, not everyone in the District was that lucky."

"So they have been living underground for seventy five years?" I stared at the city in disbelief. To never see the sun for a week would be devastating. But to never see the sun for years, even lifetimes for many of these people, to never know the feeling of its warmth on your face was horrifying. I felt a slight panic in wondering if today was the last day I would see the sun. How many times I had taken it for granted! Is this where my tomb will be, me the caged-bird pawn in the impeding war?

"Yes," Plutarch replies shortly, breaking my train of thought. A sudden lurch in my stomach announced the landing of our hovercraft. "It's good to have you back." He turns, presumably to go supervise the exodus of the refugees or something. There is still something about him that I don't trust. Is Plutarch the grand architect of the revolution, the puppet master of us all? Maybe. I look out at the city bathed in unnatural red light. _I will be watching you, Plutarch. If it is you that is responsible for Peeta's death, I will kill you. _

"Oh, and Katniss?" He turns back, a wry smile on his thin lips. I stare at him. There is definitely something reptilian about him.

"We need to talk."


End file.
